Dramok Rajhir has never had to go without. He’s been blessed with the best schooling, a prestigious pedigree, a fine home, plus all the intimate companionship a young Kalquorian male could ask for. But with status comes responsibility. His father insists Rajhir assume his place in Kalquorian society as soon as possible. Rajhir is determined to have some fun however, and all the machinations in the world won’t convince him to build his clan until he’s ready for it. He doesn’t count on true love walking into his office with a story of political intrigue that could put all of the Kalquorian Empire in jeopardy.
Imdiko Flencik is a brilliant young surgeon who stumbles upon a smuggling operation with far-reaching implications. Desperate to stop men willing to sell Kalquor’s future to an ancient enemy, he chances upon Rajhir, whose connections may mean the difference between life and death. It’s not just the Empire’s future that hangs in the balance, however. Flencik knows falling in love with this playboy Dramok could shatter his already bruised heart.
Nobek Breft is a young man still in training camp. He has no prestige and no future, yet his fierce personality yearns for the perfect clanmates to protect. When he meets Rajhir and Flencik, all he can think of is to prove himself worthy of their love. He will do anything to keep them safe ... a tall order he may not possess the skills to fulfill. Political enemies who have already killed once have set their sights on the men Breft would call clanmates.
Honor is the three men’s code, the thing they hold most dear. Yet when love and duty clash, they must decide if their loyalties lie first with the Kalquorian Empire or each other.
Letting his lips curl into a knowing smile, Rajhir said, “You’d like Imdiko Flencik. He comes from a good family with rank. His father is territorial governor here.”
Gegra’s brows shot up, much to Rajhir’s pleasure. “He’s Dramok Limron’s son? My, my.”
“Did I already mentioned Flencik is a top surgeon at the age of 26? His intelligence scores are in the 98th percentile. That man is definitely destined to do great things.”
Gegra looked delighted. “So it sounds. Have you charmed him into a private meeting? Perhaps dinner?”
“He was a little caught up in nerves over playing spy. It didn’t seem like a good time for flirting. However, I did tell him to expect my com in the morning. He seemed agreeable to that.”
Rajhir played with the truth, deliberately letting his father think there was more to his protectiveness than simply being a guiding Dramok to Flencik’s Imdiko. Looking out for such an innocent and kind man had come naturally to Rajhir. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more the idea to spend personal time ... maybe even have dinner with Flencik ... seemed like a pretty good idea.
Why not? The parent clan of Rajhir’s favorite playmate Imdiko Iresh had forbade them to continue to see each other. Matara Itdoma had left the city with no idea of when she would visit again. The novelty of a new conquest, especially one like the smart and delicious behemoth Dr. Flencik, had definite charm.
Gegra’s congratulations interrupted Rajhir’s line of thought. “Very nice work on locating such a desirable potential clanmate, my son. At least you’re listening to me on one thing.”
His good humor had been restored. The elder Dramok added expansively, “I suppose I can make an excuse to Teken on your behalf. You do owe me for that bit of embarrassment, however.”
“Thank you, my father.” Rajhir was fine with the remonstration. Half-approval was better than none, and it sure as hell beat getting The Look.